


Windflower

by Koneko_Neko



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Baggage, Flower Crowns, Gen, Might be part of a series...?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24352321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koneko_Neko/pseuds/Koneko_Neko
Summary: The boys get stranded when their car breaks down. Michael reveals that he has a surprising talent and...some degree of emotional baggage.
Relationships: J. Allen Hynek & Michael Quinn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Windflower

**Author's Note:**

> Flower crowns with a side of angst! The perfect pairing, am I right? 
> 
> Everybody can thank Discord for this fic, because it was partially inspired by an old post somebody made about windflower crowns. That's where the title comes from, anyway. I started writing a lovely piece of fluff about the boys in flower crowns, and suddenly I thought it was a good idea to add hints of Quinn's tragic past. 
> 
> This fic may become the first part of a larger series. I already have a sequel of sorts in the works. What gets posted depends on two things: 1. Does my writer's block cooperate? 2. Do people continue to read and comment now that the show has been canceled? 
> 
> No M/M yet. Ratings, warnings, and tags may vary throughout the series, if a series this does become. Stay tuned.

Cars broke down. People got stranded. It happened. Dr. Allen Hynek and his partner, Captain Michael Quinn, traveled extensively for their work at Project Blue Book. Much of that travel was done by car. So, it really wasn't a matter of if, but when, that sort of vehicular nightmare happened to them.

As it turned out, today was the day.

Allen and Michael had to drive to the location of their next case. Air travel wasn't an option. They took one of the cars from the motor pool at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, a black Packard sedan, because Allen was getting worried about the wear and tear on his personal vehicle. He was worried about the condition of the wrong car. Big mistake.

The Packard drove fine at first. Neither man suspected anything was wrong with it until a loud clanking noise started coming from under the hood. It sounded like it was coming from the engine, and it sounded very bad. They shared a look of apprehension. They weren't even halfway to their destination. This was not good.

Michael was behind the wheel. “Keep your eyes peeled for a service station,” he said.

“Yeah,” Allen said, nervously.

The car's engine sputtered and stalled, calling it quits long before they made it to a service station. Michael cursed, and did his best to steer the powerless vehicle to the side of the road. The car came to a stop at an angle, half on the road, half on the shoulder. At least they didn't have to worry about blocking traffic. There wasn't any traffic to block on these dusty back roads.

Michael tried to start the car again. Nothing. The engine was totally dead. He put the car in park before he forgot, because, working or not, the last thing he needed was for the car to go rolling into a ditch.

“Just great,” Michael said, hitting the steering wheel with his palms.

“What do you think is wrong?” Allen asked.

“Bit of a wild guess,” Michael said, “but I think our car just broke down.”

Allen rolled his eyes.

Michael popped the hood and got out. Allen followed, and they both took a look at the engine. It was smoking. Michael swung his arm through the air to clear some of the smoke. He fiddled with this. He fiddled with that. He burned his hand once or twice. It was obvious to Allen that Michael had no idea what he was doing.

“You don't know anything about cars, do you?” Allen said.

Michael looked at Allen. “Do you?” He asked.

“I can change a tire...if I have to,” Allen said.

Michael placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. “Well, I guess that means we're stuck here,” he said.

Luck wasn't on their side that day, it just wasn't. Not only did their car break down, but it did so in the middle of nowhere. A quick check of the map revealed they were about seventeen miles from the next town. They couldn't see any houses in the immediate area. The last one they passed was ten miles back, give or take. Allen did some math in his head to figure that out. They couldn't walk either distance—not safely.

The best course of action, they both decided, was to sit and wait for another car to come along. Eventually one would, and, when it did, they could flag down the driver and ask for a lift to the nearest town. That simple. They just had to be patient.

Twenty minutes later, and they were still waiting. Michael was leaning with his back against the side of the car, and his arms crossed over his chest. Allen was sitting in the passenger seat. At least the seats still worked. That was something, right?

Summer was in full-swing, and both the heat and humidity were absolutely oppressive. Allen kept the car doors open and fanned himself with his hat in an effort to keep cool. He had shed all unnecessary layers of clothing and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Michael had done the same.

Allen sighed. “We should have just taken my car,” he said.

“They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, Doc,” Michael said.

The two men continued the wait in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Despite the heat and his growing hunger, Allen started to drift off. He didn't stay asleep long, though it would have been a great way to pass the time. He woke up just shy of an hour later.

Allen yawned and stretched. “Captain?” he said, sleepily.

No answer. Allen looked for Michael. When he didn't see him, he panicked. He jumped out of the car. His head turned left to right and right to left so fast it was a miracle his neck didn't break. Michael wasn't anywhere in sight. Where was he? He didn't leave, did he? He wouldn't, would he? It was too far to walk, they discussed this already!

“Captain!” Allen shouted, a note of fear in his voice.

“Over here!” Michael shouted back.

Allen followed the voice, which seemed to be coming from the the direction of a nearby meadow. He breathed a massive sigh of relief when he saw Michael sitting under a large tree, waving an arm in the air to get his attention. Michael was there—he hadn't started walking to the next town or anything equally as foolish—Allen just didn't see him earlier because his attention had been focused on the road and the areas nearest the car.

“Just getting some shade!” Michael shouted.

Allen went to join Michael under the tree, because shade was definitely a good thing in this heat. Why didn't they think of that sooner? It wasn't like they needed to worry about being too far from the car. Most likely, any passing motorist would notice their Packard, which still had it's hood propped open, and stop to investigate on their own.

As Allen approached, Michael stood up, tossed something behind the trunk of the tree, and sat back down. Allen paused, slightly suspicious of Michael's actions.

“What did you just throw away?” Allen asked.

“Cigarette butt,” Michael said, innocently.

It would have been a good answer, if only it were used on someone _other_ than the man who had been observing him and his behavior for months. Michael had never bothered to hide his cigarette butts from Allen before—not even once. If Michael had wanted to be polite, or simply conceal the fact he smoked like chimney, he would have started hiding the evidence long ago.

Allen stepped around the tree trunk and looked on the ground for anything out of the ordinary.

“I told you, it was a cigarette butt!” Michael protested.

Allen was about to believe him when a particular patch of dandelions caught his eye. Dandelions were growing everywhere, but these ones stood out because they were growing side by side in an almost perfect circle. Dandelions didn't normally grow like that. Allen walked over, and, when he knelt down to examine them, he realized they weren't growing like that at all. He smiled.

Reemerging from behind the tree, Allen held up what he was absolutely certain Michael had been trying to hide from him.

Michael pointed to the item in Allen's hand. “I have no idea what that is or where it came from,” he said.

Allen placed the item—a crown made of dandelions—on top of Michael's head. Michael winced as though it caused him physical pain, but he was just being dramatic.

“Someone was busy while I was napping,” Allen said.

Michael angrily ripped the crown from his head and tossed it away. “I got bored, and that was something to do,” he snapped. “It doesn't _mean_ anything.”

Allen was taken aback by Michael's burst of anger, but it was quickly evident that that anger was just a mask for his embarrassment. Society taught them that flower crowns were for women and little girls, not grown men, and Michael had just been caught red-handed with one. _Of course_ he would be embarrassed. It was only natural.

If Allen had learned anything over the years, however, it was that society _wasn't_ always right. Picking up the discarded crown, he gently placed it back on Michael's head before sitting down next to him.

“I never said it did,” Allen said. “And it's a nice crown. You shouldn't just throw it away like that.”

“...I guess...” Michael said.

Michael didn't take the crown off his head this time, which was a positive sign, but he was still visibly upset. He sat against the tree, with his legs against his chest and his arms around them. He refused to make eye contact, intentionally directing his eyes toward anything that _wasn't_ Allen's face.

“Captain, why did you try and hide the flower crown from me? Were you afraid I would laugh at you?” Allen asked.

Michael took a long time to answer. “I was afraid that...that you would think I was some kind of...deviant...” He said.

“Deviant? Why in the world would I think that?” Allen asked.

“Because that's what _everyone else_ seems to think,” Michael said.

Allen got the distinct impression that this was _not_ the first time Michael had been caught doing something that fell outside of societal norms. The resulting fallout from that incident—or incidents— must have been especially bad if it led to this sort of behavior from Michael. Allen could only imagine what happened to him.

“Well, as you are aware, I'm not like everyone else,” Allen said. “And, as you are also aware, I am totally incapable of agreeing with everyone else.”

Michael didn't laugh at his poor attempt at humor. Allen had hoped that he would, but all he managed to do was get the corners of Michael's mouth to twitch upwards. No matter. Allen was counting that as a smile, which was better than nothing and a step in the right direction.

“No, you aren't like everyone else,” Michael said. “And you can't even agree with the men who _pay you_ to agree with them, and who threaten to _fire you_ if you don't.”

“Exactly,” Allen said. “You had nothing to worry about at all, see?”

Michael looked at Allen, the strange—correction, eccentric—man he that had been paired up with at Project Blue Book. He wasn't like anyone Michael had ever met, and that was a good thing. It was in that moment, with that realization, that a wall Michael had built up around himself over the years started to crumble. The bond the two men shared was strengthened immeasurably.

“Yeah...silly me...” Michael said, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards again.

Allen suddenly got to his feet. “Come now, Captain, we have to go collect some more flowers,” he said.

“Why?” Michael asked.

“We're partners, remember?” Allen said. “If _you_ have a flower crown, then _I_ have to have a flower crown.”

“Alright,” Michael said. “But your crown can't be the same as mine. It's gotta be different.”

Finally, Michael started acting like his old self. Allen got a full smile and the laugh he was hoping for. He got a flower crown of his own, too, one made of pink and blue wildflowers that he and Michael had collected from the meadow together. Allen proudly wore it on his head in place of his usual fedora, only taking it off when, after what felt like ages, a truck came down the road in their direction...


End file.
